of pendants and princes
by disneyprincessludwig
Summary: Cinderalla AU feat. Gerita ! Ludwig has a limited memory of his father, with only the iron cross pendant to remember him by. Feliciano Vargas, the noble prince, too aloof to settle down and marry. Germany/Italy.


**I'm so sorry you guys had to wait nearly three months for this. Word count total was 10,336 and special thanks to Kaitlyn/The-spamanos for editing and world development. I present to you, the cinderella au. **

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><p>For as long as his father had been alive, Ludwig had been content in his quiet home in the small kingdom, never minding the foul looks from his step family. He supposed it was because he was the favorite, or perhaps they held some grudge against his mother, but whatever the case, life did anything but improve after the death of Ludwig's father. He had only the iron cross pendant his father had valued so much, and it would seem in a matter of weeks, the pendant was the only thing he was allowed to have, simply because he kept it hidden.<p>

It wasn't like he had ever done anything to them, Ludwig thought, meticulously scrubbing at the tile floor. The blonde let a small sigh escape his lips as he surveyed the remaining floor in need of a wash, it certainly wasn't his fault he had a different mother or that his father had died. Yet they seemed to think so. Tremaine was his ever present step mother, and she wasn't necessarily that bad, beyond assigning excessive chores and complying with her darling daughter's every request. Because it wasn't Tremaine who had the idea of shamelessly looting his father's fortune to buy a manner of gaudy, flashy gear for Anastasia and Drizella to wear and flaunt proudly, a symbol of the wealth they had quickly diminished. It wasn't Tremaine who had requested Ludwig do every little chore and task around the house because "he was the man of the house and should take care of them all". And it never was Tremaine who would hit him or call him "ashrat" or "cinderwench" when his clothes got the slightest bit dirty. Certainly the two sisters ran the household, even imploring their beefy cat to hunt the mice Ludwig kept for company.

So really, heaven knows why he had let his hopes run so high when the prince's ball was announced, open invitation. It was some sort of party to pluck a suitor from the crowd, since the prince was rather fond of rejecting each and every court lady who stepped through his door. Anastasia and Drizella of course were enamored with the young prince and the luxurious lifestyle he offered, but Ludwig felt his interests lay mainly in the chance to dance away his cares for one night and visit the castle and those within. Because really, while his mice were stellar company in the tiny attic he called home, Jaq and Gus made very little conversation. Putting the sponges away carefully, the blonde approached his stepmother in the sitting room, cautious lest he disturb the precious daughters.

"Ah, Lady Tremaine?"

"Hm." Her brow furrowed slightly, but she did not look up from her book. Ludwig took this a cue to continue.

"Well, I'm sure you are aware that the prince's ball is this weekend...," a thin eyebrow piqued and quivered, a frown lingering dangerously on thin lips, "...and I was thinking, you know, that I am sixteen and all, and-"

"And you are interested in the prince?"

Ludwig could feel his cheeks heating up, and prayed they weren't flushing by now, "Um, no, ma'am. I was hoping to go to the party. If that's okay with you, I mean."

Tremaine grunted in response, idly flipping the page on her book before sighing and peeking over the rims of her glasses. "Well I suppose. Granted, however, that you complete all assigned chores beforehand, and I most certainly will not be getting you a suit, so I expect you to come up with that on your own as well."

It was a slanted arrangement, but one Ludwig could certainly work with. "Thank you ma'am," he breathed, daring himself to keep calm as he left the room and reclaimed his bucket and sponge. The water was dirty from the soaking sponges by now, and Ludwig took it outside to the well, dumping the water and setting it down.

Kicking the bucket restlessly, he muttered "It really isn't fair. Where am I supposed to get nice things in the first place? Why can't they at least help or not dump everything on the floor?"

But pondering and hoping was quite useless, and no work was getting done, so he resumed filling the bucket with water, careful not to let it slosh onto the floor as he moved to the next room. He couldn't wait for Saturday, but he wasn't going to stop and fantasize when there was work to be done.

The days passed rather quickly, with little else to do but mop the floors and tidy the rooms, really a large task of their own, combined with the usual dishes and laundry. It seemed though, on Saturday morning, Ludwig's chores were done, which gave him time to make proper attire for the night's event. What was concerning was the fact that Ludwig really didn't have much material to make anything, or the funds to purchase them. It was a large block in his plan, but perhaps there were some scraps he could salvage from the sewing room and whatever he had. By the time he had reached the sewing room, it was clear it was occupied by none other than Anastasia and Drizella, leafing through the fabrics and beads, scrutinizing those they deemed unfit. Ludwig watched with horror as Anastasia lifted a skein of blue cotton into the light, before flinging it down on the freshly polished floor.

"Can you believe it? Half of this is garbage. Heaven knows why we keep it," the brunette twirled around suddenly, catching sight of Ludwig standing in the doorway, "Oh, it's you. You know, I can't believe you even honestly cleaned this room, rat, it's such a mess. Why don't you take care of this garbage while we finish up here." She was indicating to a growing pile of rejected beads and fabrics, strewn aimlessly across the floor.

Drizella paid him no mind, choosing to instead focus on a skein of lime green silk and its compliments. Ludwig took this a cue to get on with it, and gathered the discarded materials in his arms quickly, rushing out the door as quickly as he had come in. Interestingly enough, much of the fabric they had discarded where blue and white, and the beads were a darker blue and gold. It was a bit strange, but perhaps they just didn't like those colors. Which made sense, they weren't flashy enough for the style the girls seemed to prefer. At any rate, if they wanted these tossed, Ludwig wasn't going to let the material go to waste. With a newfound excitement, he bounded up the stairs to his tiny room in the attic, careful to close the door so as not to create any noise the others could hear.

Ludwig didn't know much about the aesthetics necessary for dress wear, as he mainly sewed to patch his clothes or his sisters', but he figured taking a model from a child's fairy tale couldn't hurt. The design seemed relatively simple, straight slacks with a heavily embroidered shirt, and a cloak with a beaded edge and jeweled clasp. Embroidery wasn't exactly a strong suit, but perhaps the beads could suffice. He set to work immediately, carefully marking the edges of each piece and the appropriate stitches, humming cheerfully as he went. All the work would be worth it soon, when he had fitting attire to meet the lovely courtspeople who ruled the kingdom.

Ludwig was uninterrupted for the remainder of the day, and by noon the cloak was a dark blue with a gold beaded edge, to which Ludwig assumed he would substitute his iron cross for the fancy clasp, as well as a pair of slightly lighter blue slacks. All that remained was the chestpiece, and whatever design he decided to use. The easiest designs would be simple curves and dots, random patterns designed to rinse and repeat, but these felt very ordinary, and in the end, he settled for a pattern reminiscent of a soaring bird, highlighted in gold and black on the white chestpiece. All in all, when Ludwig was done, the outfit seemed to suit him perfectly and compliment itself quite nicely, and it almost made him hesitate, because the scheme of the discarded skeins seemed too perfect for scraps, but he brushed these thoughts away quickly; Anastasia had said they were to be trashed, so it must be so.

By now it was nearly seven, and high time to leave for the palace, and Ludwig donned his work with joy, hoping to impress his step sisters at least _slightly_, though such a thing seemed impossible. He bounded down the stairs eagerly, all attempts at keeping a modest pace erased in excitement. Anastasia and Drizella were already seated in the parlor, and they paid Ludwig no heed as he took a seat along the opposite wall nervously.

Drizella scoffed, muttering under her breath, "Where'd you get that, the trash?"

Ludwig wasn't one to tell her that yes, technically he had. Anastasia, on the other hand, kept her mouth shut and her nose upturned, but her eyes held his gaze for a moment, narrowing dangerously as she scanned his clothes. The brunette broke off the contact suddenly, and the silence was unbearable as they waited for Tremaine to finish preparing herself.

Tremaine came down the stairs several minutes later, nodding her acknowledgement to Ludwig, and leaving it at that. Anastasia rose from her seat dramatically, stomping her way over to Tremaine while jabbing a finger sharply in Ludwig's direction.

"Mother! I'm so glad you're here, can't you see that this little pig has stolen our fabrics to make this ridiculous attire! He didn't even ask!"

Drizella was momentarily shocked, but her eyebrows soon cocked in understanding and she made herself heard as well. "Oh yes! We asked him to give them back, but he took them anyway and now he won't answer us!"

Tremaine looked expectantly at Ludwig, not for his argument so much as any form of apology.

"With all due respect, Anastasia, I thought that you had requested these be discarded?"

The brunette gestured flippantly in response, actions becoming more and more distressed in motion with each word. "I meant for you to clean them up and put them away, that's your _chore_, not a chance to steal some of my better beads!"

"But you-I mean-I didn't know, I-"

It was clear Tremaine was swayed by the girls far more than she was by Ludwig, and no amount of stuttering apology would help. She silenced them all with a flick of her wrist, overpowering them with her command, "Ludwig, give the girls their things back. I will wait outside in the carriage, and as proper punishment, I do not expect to see _you_," a pudgy finger stabbed at the blonde's nose, "anywhere near the carriage or ball tonight, understand?"

The terms were unfair, but Tremaine's word was law, so Ludwig held it down and nodded respectfully, eyes cast towards the floor. Tremaine turned on her heel, exiting the main hall swiftly and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. This left Ludwig alone with his two older step-sisters, whose smirks only increased in their devilishness.

Drizella began this time, turning to catch Ludwig's eye. "Well then, get on with it! Take off those things and give them back."

The two girls ushered him up the rickety stairs to the attic, urging him to change quickly and be done with it.

"A pity you won't be coming along."

The pointed comment stung a bit, but Ludwig tried to ignore their triumphant giggles as he folded the suit neatly, pulling on his work clothes roughly. As soon as he swung the tiny door open, the clothes were snatched, and Drizella and Anastasia went at it with scissors and seam rippers, tearing it neatly into long rectangles and depostiting the beads back into their containers. Ludwig silently watched them, uneasy with the way they methodically destroyed what he had worked so hard on. At last they shredded fabric, and Anastasia turned back to him thoughtfully.

"You're rather stubborn, aren't you? I have a feeling you'll keep messing things up with your stupid idea of joining the party. So, Drizella, don't you agree it's best to keep the little pig inside his pen?"

Drizella nodded and smiled playfully, and the sisters advanced on the tiny door to the attic. Ludwig was shoved inside roughly and heard the thunk as the door was bolted. He could only sit in wonder of what had just occurred as the sisters ran off snickering to their waiting carriage.

The blonde dropped heavily to the lumpy mattress in the corner, holding his head in his hands and running his fingers through ruffled bangs. There was no use crying over spilled milk, as the saying goes, but he couldn't help but feel crushed. He had no idea how long he sat there silently until he was awoken from his trance as the door creaked open softly. There was complete silence for a moment, then a small whisper of, "Do you think we have the right room?"

The door was pushed open suddenly to reveal three brightly clad men surrounded by tiny glowing lights. The first was pale with white hair and red eyes, he wore a lopsided grin and a bright purple suit. The second had flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, and he wore a deep sapphire overcoat and red slacks. The third was a wavy haired brunet with humor filled emerald eyes, and he wore a brilliant red suit with white ruffles at the collar and wrists. It was he who spoke first.

"Ah, you see amigos, I told you this was the right room!"

Ludwig simply blinked at the three men before him, wondering who they were and how they had even got in, much less why they were here in the first place. The blonde seemed to notice Ludwig's discomfort and addressed him directly, "Mon ami, we should worry less about the state of our bet and more about proper introduction, hm? I am Francis, this," he indicated to the brunet, "is Antonio, and this," he pointed to the albino, "Is Gilbert. I'm sure you're wondering why we're here, dear Ludwig, and the answer to that is quite simple; we're your fairy godfathers and we've come to grant your wish!"

Ludwig stared at them dumbly for a moment, and they stared back. It was a strange claim, but what would be the point of robbers or crooks making an excuse like that, or seeking him directly, or even knowing he was here? There was a glowing light coming from them, but that too could be a trick of the brightly colored clothing they wore. Antonio only smiled up at him warmly, "Well, come on then! We can't get anything done here! To the garden!"

With several more loud shouts of, "To the garden!," Ludwig found himself half-shoved half-dragged down the wooden staircase and into the main hall, wondering breifly in their shuffling would leave streaks on the marble floors as they rounded the main staircase and hurried out the back door to stop in the vegetable garden.

Francis addressed him first, "Mon cher, welcome to your greatest and wildest dream come true!"

"This is a vegetable patch."Francis frowned at him, shaking his head lightly. "Non, this is a place where the magic can begin, and our powers put to use!"

Gilbert stepped up next, holding in his hand Ludwig's mice. "You see, these can become your noble steeds!"

Antonio picked through the patch, admiring the plants as he went, "Any of these may be your stylish ride!"

Francis tugged the hem of Ludwig's shirt, noting, "And these clothes could really use a touch up."

This had to be some kind of sick joke. These men were clearly crazy, and Ludwig didn't doubt their cohort was currently picking through the house's valuables. They seemed to notice a shift in his behavior, and set to work immediately.

Francis rounded him first, keeping him still with a steady pressure to his shoulders as he examined him up and down. "Remarkable," the blonde declared suddenly, "You're in much better shape than I would have anticipated! Perhaps it's all those extra chores hm? At any rate this makes my job easier!" Francis then whirled about suddenly, gripping both of Ludwig's biceps tightly and leaning his head lazily over the blonde's shoulder as he spoke. "Antonio, what say you?"

Antonio pondered it for a while, "Chartreuse, a v-neck should compliment his form well."

Ludwig could feel himself flushing, still unable to tear away from Francis' iron grasp, "I-what...no! I don't-"

But Francis simply laughed, and with the lightest tap of his finger, Ludwig found himself wearing an elegant, deep v-necked dress. Chartreuse indeed.

"What do you thi-"

Gilbert shook his head roughly. "No, no, it needs to be sapphire! Works better with his eyes."

Another tap, and the dress had changed colors.

Antonio giggled slightly, "You meant cyan, or maybe electric blue, that matches up better."

Francis let go of Ludwig's arms quite suddenly, and the blonde whipped around immediately, only to find the dress was gone. Now he was clad in a dress suit of royal blues and golds, cloak clasped firmly and lined with jewels and tassels. The emblem on his chest was the same he had attempted before, the soaring eagle, only done by a talented seamstress, in bold black with an elegant, sweeping tail. This was most certainly a dream, but some snickering could be heard from behind him.

"You didn't think we'd seriously let you go in a dress, do you?"

The blonde whirled around, and there they were again, giggling like a gaggle of schoolgirls. The albino snickered suddenly, "But that might help him get the attention of the hot Italian prince, wouldn't it?"

Ludwig was not sure whether to be angered at the comment, or excited by what they were implying. Perhaps this magic stuff was worth his time. He cleared his throat gruffly, "Not a thing I care for anyways. Does this mean you are sending me off to the ball?"

Antonio nodded happily. "Bingo! Of course, you do like the clothes we've given you, don't you?"

"Ah-yes, thank you very much for that. And I mean, for all of this. It means a lot to me."

Gilbert groaned audibly, "Yeah, yeah, yeah enough with the sappy emotional stuff we need to get you a ride. Suggestions anyone?"

Antonio thought for a second, before piping up. "Clearly a carrot is the only acceptable mode of transportation nowadays!"

The air was dead silent as everyone present stared at the brunet. Antonio's smile slackened, and he seemed to whither under the scrutiny. That is, until Gilbert called out, "No, no, no! It has to be a radish, carrots would be painful!"

Francis looked just as confused as Ludwig felt. "But why a radish?"

The albino simply laughed. "If we have to choose a vegetable, shouldn't we choose one of a shape you can actually climb in?"

He wasn't quite sure why, but Ludwig raised his hand and waited for their attention. "Uh, I hate to be demanding, but couldn't we just go with a horse and carriage?"

Francis seemed relieved. "Of course, but of course! And Gilbert-it ought to be a pumpkin, you know, for the most space."

Gilbert pouted slightly, but he set down the mice and with a wave of his hand, two pure white horses in bridles had appeared, missing only a carriage. Antonio rolled his eyes and smiled, picking out a large pumpkin, which he set down carefully behind the now-horses, tapping it just as lightly as Francis had tapped Ludwig's shoulder. The pumpkin sprouted upwards, expanding and hollowing out into a large, single seat carriage, white and lined with gold leaf designs. The scene was nearly complete, and after a quick nod from Francis, Gilbert hopped up easily into the coachman's seat.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Ludwig was hesitant; how often did things like this happen? Something awful could happen yet. Well, he decided, no more awful than what Tremaine would surely do to him if she saw this mess. So be it a dream or trick of the light, Ludwig decided there was very little to lose, and climbed up steadily into the leather passenger's seat. Francis and Antonio nodded, then disappeared quite suddenly with a wave. Gilbert cracked the reins loudly, and the strange party took off. What was most incredible to Ludwig was the fact the mice-or horses, whatever, needed no training whatsoever to respond to Gilbert's every command and stay, hooves clopping against the cobblestone road. Ludwig's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the albino spoke up.

"So, aren't you excited? You're being awfully quiet back there. Just think, in a few minutes, could be dancing away with the ma-"

Ludwig grunted loudly, "I'm not interested. In that sort of thing. I'm just thinking."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Well, I'm sure you'll have fun anyhow, and who knows? You just might mee-"

"Oh look! There's my stop, so sorry to cut you short! Would it be too much trouble to ask you to put everything back?"

The carriage halted abruptly in front of the palace gate, Ludwig hopping out quickly and facing Gilbert, who still held a devilish smirk. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, just have fun okay? And don't worry about it, everything goes back to normal at midnight. Well, you might have to worry about getting yourself out of there. And back home. Ah, I'm sure it'll work out, see ya 'round, kid!"

Ludwig watched the carriage turn about and head back in the direction they had come from, turning his attention back to the palace. It was bigger than he could have imagined, four towers spiraling into the sky around one central building, around which was an impressive stone wall surrounding courtyards, the gate left open for the night's event. It appeared to Ludwig the actual ballroom was just beyond a large, open patio, and he couldn't help but admire the well kept courtyard on the way there. Everything seemed clipped right from a fairy tale, with all numbers of rare, colorful flowers lining the winding path up to the patio.

If the flowers and decor were colorful, than the people gathered on the patio were brilliant. There were all manners of men and women dressed in elegant gowns and blazing suits, and joyous laughter filled the air. Ludwig navigated between them carefully, keeping his head low as he worked his way towards the ballroom, and the heart of the event. Here the ladies were young and pretty, and the men fathers and escorts, all pining after the attention of one young man seated at the end of the hall. He was fairly tall, though Ludwig assumed he himself was a bit taller, and well built, thin yet evidently muscular. His eyes were a honey gold, and his hair a reflective, curling caramel mass; his presence by far the most powerful in the room. This was the prince, and he seemed completely uninterested in the event before him. Ludwig found himself staring, amazed that the man could have all this excitement and attention about him and still be bored. Honey gold eyes met electric blue for a mere moment, before Ludwig jerked his head away shyly, hoping he hadn't begun to flush again. He hoped too, that no one else had noticed him staring, since there seemed to be very few people here not after the young man's attention.

Ludwig took this opportunity to study the surroundings. The floors where of a polished marble, scuffed from the use of thousands of dancing and swaying feet, and the walls arched upwards to meet at a large dome, the insides painted with a copy of some Renaissance artist. The large oak doors which led out to the patio where engraved with all manners of family crests and symbols, outlined in thin gold paint. The sister pair of doors were firmly locked on the other side of the hall, and Ludwig mused this must be the way to the main building. There was a smaller open door to the kitchen, where servants bustled back and forth from the buffet table. Ludwig supposed food was the facilitator of conversation, and made his way over to the table with ease, surveying the crowd quickly. No one seemed to be paying him much notice, and really, that was to be expected given the circumstance.

Across the room, he spotted Drizella and Anastasia, shadowed by Tremaine, who seemed to be keen on flaunting them as well as herself. They didn't seem to notice him, or perhaps if they did, they didn't recognize him. Ludwig supposed that the garb or slicked back hair could be convincing enough, or perhaps just the fact there wasn't a conceivable way for him to show up, especially not like this. Keeping a steady pace, he decided to ease his fears by trying some of the spread that was laid out on the table. And oh, what a feast it was! There were all manners of seafood, pastas, poultry and beef, fresh vegetables and hors d'oeuvres, though what most caught his eye was the pastries and cakes. It wasn't so much a secret that he adored baking; and really the habit had probably only been tolerated because he was pretty good at it, and they liked reaping the rewards of that. At any rate, these looked far fancier than anything he had ever seen, let alone made. There wasn't any harm in sampling one. Or two. Or perhaps one of each kind, you know-for inspirational purposes.

Ludwig had hardly noticed as the attentions of the guests shifted, caught up as he was. It wasn't like they were noticing him anyhow. The blonde was sure of this, that is, until he felt a light tapping at his shoulder.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Ludwig turned to answer the voice, and found himself staring at the same honey golden eyes as before, mouth agape, and a plate of pastries in one hand. A perfect way to introduce himself to the prince of the kingdom.

"Ah, yes sir, I mean ah-"

A small smile played on the lips of the prince, and his laughter resounded like the charming tinkling of a windchime. "That's quite alright, you don't have to answer. You just seem to be by yourself, aren't you excited by all this commotion? Or perhaps you came here with someone? I've never seen you around before."

It was almost absurd to have the prince speaking to him so casually, asking if he enjoyed the ball, Ludwig almost wondered if he had done something terribly wrong. "Ah well, no, your highness, I have never attended an event here before. And I suppose um. I-I suppose I just- ah. I just-"

The sweet laughter chimed again from the brunet. "Of course, you're just a bit overwhelmed, aren't you? Well, you should smile a bit, for one. That's how people have fun, you know."

Ludwig gulped. "Oh, ah yes, your majesty, I will- I mean thank you- I think?"

He was blundering now, and probably making a grand fool of himself since attention was generally centered on wherever the prince was, and right now, the prince was near him. Yet the prince's warm smile never wavered and he continued to talk.

"Well listen, you've probably seen how they all look at me, and I was wondering if you could do me a favor? I hope it's not too much to ask, but they're planning on starting the dances soon, and I'd rather not be stuck with one of those giggling peacocks. I mean, not that they're not all lovely individuals but I'm not really interested in that sort of thing right now. Or ever really. But don't tell Grandad, he'll throw a fit "

Ludwig blinked several times, unsure of what he had just heard. "Grandad? I-me? I'd love to- well, is that sort of thing, you know, acceptable, your highness?"

The prince ignored select parts of his stuttering cutting right to the point. "Oh quit with the formalities- my name is Feliciano, what's yours?" Eyeing Ludwig again, he quickly added, "And if it really is that big of deal, yes it's fine, Grandad and Lovino have done it too."

The blonde shuffled awkwardly, staring down at his feet. "Uh well, I'm not really supposed to be here so...maybe I could um," This was not what he'd intended to say, but giving away his name wasn't something he could easily get away with, particularly if Feliciano had taken an uncanny shine to him.

Yet Feliciano seemed to understand. "Oh, a rebel, are we? Don't worry about it, it's really fine. But!" he declared, clapping his hands sharply, "I do believe it's time to begin the dance!"

Ludwig was grateful he had avoided giving his name away, but now there was a crowd focused on Feliciano, and partially on him and the brunet took his hand, signaling he had selected his partner already. Tremaine and the sisters had yet to notice it was him, though their faces carried the same bitter look as all the others, jealous not necessarily at him, but the fact they were passed over.

Feliciano slid the platter of pastries away from him, then back onto the table, smiling a bit, "You must like these a lot"

Ludwig wasn't allowed to stutter this time as he was rushed into the center of the ballroom, still conscious of Feliciano's hand in his. Feliciano turned to him abruptly, sizing him up by the looks of it. The brunet was a good three inches shorter than Ludwig, but the difference wasn't really big enough to make this any more awkward than it already was. Feliciano's attire, he noted, was quite fitting for royalty, deep blues and purples outlined in gold and red. His cloak seemed to fashioned from some combination of velvet and fur, and fastened with a rich assortment of rubies and sapphires in the shape of the family's crest. The entire outfit just seemed to suit him, as well as display his massive wealth. Ludwig felt even more unsure of himself.

"So," the brunet began, drawing himself even closer to Ludwig, "What can you dance?" Ludwig simply blinked at the question, prompting Feliciano to continue, "You know, like a waltz, foxtrot, jive, flamenco, anything?"

Ludwig shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't know how."

"And how's that?! That is an essential skill for any partygoer!"

The blonde felt his unease increasing. "Well, like I said, I'm not supposed to be here, I really don't get out much."

Feliciano looked sympathetic. "Oh, I'm sorry. But look, I'll teach you, ah- how about a waltz, that seems simple enough!"

Ludwig nodded, and Feliciano signaled for the performers to begin. "It's quite simple," he stated, positioning Ludwig's left hand on his shoulder, while keeping his left entwined with Ludwig's right. "I'll lead, of course, which means I'll pretty much be guiding you," Feliciano's right hand slid down to gently hold Ludwig's waist guiding, him into a proper position. "But you do know about three-fourths time, at least?"

Ludwig shook his head again, and the brunet laughed huffily, continuing on anyways, "Well, it's the way the music is played, but I think you can rather easily pick up on it just by counting your steps."

Feliciano began, slowly and sweetly, letting Ludwig adjust to the rhythm of his steps. It wasn't long before they found a suitable pace, where Ludwig could easily keep up, but still Feliciano could swing or spin him as he desired.

"You're awful stiff," Feliciano remarked, "Do you really not get out that often?"

"No, not much," the blonde replied, "I'm really the only one around the house who does chores."

Feliciano quirked an eyebrow at him, "Why's that? Do you live alone, or with an older person?"

Ludwig felt uncomfortable sharing, but there was little harm to be done if the brunet did not know his name. "No...I live with my step family, they just don't help much."

"Ah."

They continued dancing at the same pace for a moment, before Feliciano saw fit to share, "Well, I guess I get out, but only really to meet people my grandfather wants me to form connections with or something-at this point I think he's given up on that, and that's why we have these parties. I wish he wasn't so eager to have me married, I'm not just going to pick someone based on wealth or looks, you know?"

"Oh," was all Ludwig could manage, trying to even imagine a life for himself outside of his step family's house was unimaginable. "I haven't really thought much about marriage. Or the future at all really. I guess I'm pretty preoccupied with chores."

"Really? How old are you?"

"Sixteen," he muttered sheepishly.

"Sixteen!" the brunet exclaimed, "Really! I thought you looked much older than me! I'm seventeen, and I guess my grandfather started setting me up with people at say...fourteen? He only started giving up this year, but I still think I'm not ready for that sort of commitment."

"To be fair, I was rather small until last year," Ludwig admitted, trying to hide his face, and in the process, bumping noses rather painfully with Feliciano.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Feliciano broke away from the blonde still smiling, albeit rubbing his nose. "It's fine. Say," he said, indicating towards the iron cross pendant now visible beneath Ludwig's cloak. "What is that?"

Ludwig's hands immediately flew up to clutch at the pendant, for a moment almost forgetting to breath. "Oh," he croaked, trying very hard not to let his voice crack, "That's something my father gave to me."

Feliciano didn't seem to take the hint, "What is your father like?"

"He's dead."

The brunet seemed taken aback, and he hesitated slightly before speaking again, quite gently this time, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Did you maybe want to get a drink now?"

"Oh, I-yes, thank you!" Ludwig hoped he didn't seem too eager to avoid the previous conversation, but the distraction was welcome.

Feliciano smiled quite merrily, leading Ludwig over to the taps immediately, and procuring two tall glasses from thin air. He selected an unlabeled tap at the end of the row, and filled the glasses nearly to the rim with the deep red contents. "Vino Cotta," he said, "Some of the finest in the area, if I do say so myself. We grow the vines here, it's sort of a tradition." He handed the glass carefully to Ludwig, who took it gratefully, "Grandad's been taking out the nicer taps recently, I believe this one may even have a century! Personally? I think he's hoping me as a drunkard can make a decision sooner than me as a sober, intelligent man."

Ludwig nodded in places he saw fit; he didn't quite get most of that, nor had he ever had wine before. Of course, having nothing to compare it to made his assessment skewed. It wasn't quite a pleasant flavor at first, but the aftertaste was rich and desirable, the kind of thing that foreshadowed the danger of addiction.

"...And I mean really, I understand its traditional value and whatnot, but I just don't think I'm that good at it! Although, you are supposed to wait for the wine to age, I suppose. But at any rate, you didn't get much of that, did you? Haha, I don't think it really matters anyways. Say, what sort of things do you like to do?"

Ludwig snapped back to attention at that, wondering what he did like to do that wasn't a part of his normal chores. "Well, I bake, on occasion. I'm not really that good at it."

Feliciano seemed excited by this, clapping his hands as briskly as the wine glass would allow. "Makes sense then, I mean, why you had all those pastries before! And what did you think of them?"

The blonde was certain he was flushing by now, while technically he was allowed to do so, raiding the pastry trays was not quite what he wanted to be remembered for. "Um, yes. I haven't had any that good before, nor do I even know what half of them are called. I guess I just bake plain things."

The brunet grinned happily. "Ah, but of course, our selection is only the best! Say, later on, would you like me to show you our kitchens? We'll have to wait for the majority of guests to leave, but they can show you how they do it!"

Ludwig was about to nod, but almost on reflex he spun to face grandfather clock standing tall against the wall. Eleven-thirty...he had a few minutes to spare, but not nearly enough to waste idly chattering, and far from enough to stay after the main body had left.

"Ah, I'm afraid I'll have to decline-I have a sort of, uh, a deadline, you know."

The brunet grinned slyly, "Ah yes, that bit about not really supposed to be here? Do tell."

Ludwig wasn't quite sure what to do. It wasn't something he quite wanted to share, yet at the same time, Feliciano was kind and impressionable and it wasn't like he would ever really see him again, he assumed. Feliciano wasn't aware of his name and it really would be nice to have some sympathy, for even a single night. He glanced at the clock warily. He had twenty-eight minutes left.

The blonde shifted uncomfortably, before deciding it was best to proceed. "Well, I suppose it's a consequence of my father's death. I never knew my mother but father decided it was best to remarry, and they don't like me that much," he chuckled half-heartedly," I have to be there for them you know, because I suppose I'm the man of the family now or the like."

Feliciano eyed him suspiciously, as if something in his wording had given him away. "That's rather unfortunate. However, perhaps some time you could make time to visit, even if only for an hour or so? Surely they can handle themselves for a day!"

Twenty minutes to midnight, and Ludwig still felt obliged to respond to the baited question. "Well no, not really. I can't, I uh, have prior commitments."

Feliciano rolled his eyes, exasperated. "To what?! I haven't even given a date! Surely we can work something out?"

Ludwig felt a lump building in his throat. This simply wasn't going to end well, no matter what he tried to say. "Look, Feliciano, it's not that I want to avoid you, and really, I'd love to visit you I just-"

"So why won't you then? Why bother making excuses!" Feliciano's voice was beginning to peak, and Ludwig was concerned others might have begun to look. There were only fifteen minutes left.

Ludwig felt his voice drop in defeat as he finally gave in. "Look it, I just can't. I am really sorry, I am, I just - can't."

The brunet seemed to recognize the finality of the statement, and his tone became smooth and wistful, drawing his free hand slowly down Ludwig's right arm. "It really is a pity. Are you quite certain there is no way you could visit?"

It was as if some damn had been broken, or some enormous wall surrounding the blonde's heart had been shattered. There was something so tender and well, _soft_ and _precious_ about this moment, or so it seemed; it wasn't like he had said anything different, just that his touch was that of a reveling, worshipping kind. The time was melting away fast, he could feel it; yet it seemed something held him there, suspended in a drop of time, electric blue meeting honey brown. He was faintly aware of the wait staff ushering away their empty glasses, more aware of the lidded eyes and half smile given to him by the charming brunet. He was aware only slightly as a hand was extended, one which he graciously took, and the melodious sound of, "Would you have the next dance?"

And that was when the clock struck twelve.

"I-I have to go," was all he could manage, before the blonde hastened his pace, worming around the party goers desperately. He could barely hear Feliciano shout after him before he had made it to the exit. On the third tone, he barreled into a woman swaying by the doors. He could have sworn he heard a clatter; but any instinct to look was overridden by the desire to leave as soon as possible. By the fifth tone he was in the garden, and by the seventh out the gate, though he swore he could still hear Feliciano calling for him to wait.

By the twelfth tone he was down the road a ways, and he felt the weight of the finer clothes disappear, leaving him in the tattered work clothes he normally wore. Which was fine. This wasn't supposed to happen anyways; he was supposed to stay locked in his little attic room, so all of this was a privilege. If Francis had said this must be his greatest desire, then that must be that, and he should not take any of it for granted. And yet...the face of Feliciano and his gentle touch lingered there, as if imprinted in his mind so fully he could almost reach out and touch him. He had supposedly just experienced the greatest night of his life, yet now he felt so terrible. In the end, there was little Ludwig could do but trek wearily down the dusty road towards home.

He reached it some time later, and saw that the garden had been restored and his mice replaced, waiting for him patiently by the foot of his lumpy mattress. Ludwig locked the door from the outside, hearing it grate roughly against the wood of the frame before clicking in place. Settling upon his mattress, the blonde slipped easily into a troubled sleep.

Ludwig was woken by the rough thud of the door being unlocked and forced open. He blinked several times at the harsh light

"You're late," Tremaine noted, a look from her eyes warning the blonde not to argue, "It's nearly nine."

Ludwig scrambled to his feet swiftly, refraining from arguing that last night he was locked in and they were out, it would do him no good. Instead he simply rushed down to the dining hall as quickly as his legs could carry him, only to find breakfast was already made. Today would not be a good day. That chore was his, and a chore incomplete to the point someone else would do it was exceedingly rare, and by Tremaine's terms, extremely punishable. This in mind, he took only a small piece of bread for himself, in the frail hope no one would mind him. It seemed the sisters were over joyous today, and cared more about explaining the previous evening's affairs than pressing any charges against him.

Anastasia leaned eagerly over to the jam jar, scooping out a generous hunk as she spoke, "Well, rat, it's nice you could finally join us this morning. I expect you were distressed by the party last night, continuing on without your presence. To be prefectly candid, I was too. You know of course, that the king is rather desperate to have the young prince married off?"

She halted to take a bite of her toast, and Drizella picked up where she left off, "Well anyways, the prince ignored us entirely, and I even wore my best corset for that! At any rate, he ignored all of the party for most of the night, apparently he found some other tall fellow to chatter with.".

"Ah yes!" replied Anastasia, setting her toast down, "He even danced with the man! Marie told us he's flat out bored with women, but the notion is utterly despairing!"

Tremaine fluttered in at this moment, bearing with her the town's news and strangely enough a flyer. She shoved past Ludwig ungratefully, as if signaling he ought to begin working now. Ludwig hardly minded, the conversation was heading in a direction he wasn't comfortable with anyways. Exiting the room, his hand reached up to toy with the iron cross pendant, a nervous habit, only to find it was not there. Peeking in the doorframe, he scoured the floor of the dining hall, but to no avail.

Tremaine, meanwhile, was extremely interested in the flyer, to the point where Ludwig sat at the edge of the frame, listening in. "...the prince, he says he's found a necklace belonging to someone he encountered at the ball. He'll be stopping by all the town, and wants us to know in three days time he'll arrive here."

Anastasia batted her eyelashes at this, "You know, I didn't really check if I'd brought my necklace back home, what does he ever intend to do with it?"

"But Anastasia dear, your necklace was a chain of pearls, not a pendant," Tremaine paused, catching on, "Well, at any rate if he plans on taking the owner home, I expect you to act the part."

Ludwig's breath caught. A pendant, found by the prince the night after a ball, and now he was searching for the owner. It seemed like one of his fairytales. Stupid, that is, jolly well stupid but so perfect in theory it could only be so. He must have audibly gasped, because soon the woman's eyes were on him again.

"Shouldn't you be out scrubbing the halls?"

It mattered not to Ludwig, he only had to wait.

Three days passed by in a heartbeat, or so it seemed to Ludwig. Perhaps it was due to the fact he had been yelled at very little, which again was probably because his mood had improved dramatically at the prospect of seeing Feliciano again. Not that he particularly wanted to be seen like this, or for the brunet to know where he lived or in what condition, but it was still a promising prospect yet. This morning seemed promising and bright, and he bounded down the stairs with an extra spring in his step.

Tremaine appeared to notice this. "What has gotten into you? Never mind that, I need you to assure everything is in its proper place, oh - and make yourself scarce after that."

Ludwig felt a lump growing in his throat, "What do you mean by that?"

Tremaine whipped around to face him, eyes darkening significantly, "Beg pardon?" She was nearly hissing.

Anastasia was watching from the dining hall with interest, while Drizella held a half smirk on her lips, as if they knew what came next. Ludwig was quite certain he knew himself, but he steeled his courage anyway, "I mean no offense, ma'am, however, why must I make myself scarce?"

Tremaine's lip was curling down into a snarl, a definite sign he had overstepped his boundaries. "We have a very important visitor today. In fact, one might say this is the most important visit we shall ever receive, and," she added, looming over him now, "If you think I am going to allow your miserable presence to be even _acknowledged_ by His Majesty, you have another thing coming to you, boy."

Tremaine's gaze landed on her two daughters, smirking devilishly by now, and she beckoned to them with a single stroke of a knobby finger. "Dears, would you do me a small favor?" Her voice had dropped to a sickly sweet soprano, "Now if this boy doesn't excuse himself after tidying up, will you just take care of that for me?"

Anastasia smiled sweetly, "Yes of course, Mother dear, anything for you!"

Drizella had resorted to sniggering, and Ludwig felt his heart sink down to his stomach. So much for being assertive - perhaps it was foolish to let his emotions take hold.

It would be a lie to say the rest of the evening proceeded without event; for indeed, the sniggering sisters trailed him on his every chore, as if enforcing their authoritative role. Try as he might, he could not prolong his work for very long; there simply wasn't much to do. The sisters did not waste much time as soon as he had finished, cornering him swiftly and demanding a response.

"Well then, it seems you're done, now why don't you just scamper off to the attic, alright rat?" Anastasia sneered.

The easiest course of action was simply to remain quiet. This was met with a huff of exasperation, followed by another sharp jab in his gut.

"Well, move along then."

Ludwig bit his lip, hesitating at the foot of the stairs. Anastasia gestured towards the stairs once more.

"Well?"

With a final sigh of defeat, Ludwig began climbing the stairs, still somewhat aware of the girls trailing along behind him. He reached the split of the staircase, halting momentarily at the foot of the rickety steps up to the attic to watch the girls clambering up behind him. Hands twitched nervously as he reached the handle of the attic door, but a firm glare from Anastasia silenced and possible protests, and he entered slowly, daring not to look back until he heard the familiar click of the lock.

He was alone again.

He could have been sitting there for minutes, or perhaps hours, but the blonde was only faintly aware of the hustle and bustle of activity heard from downstairs. He sat with his back facing the door, barely moving and breathing heavily. It wasn't anything to be this upset about, he kept telling himself, it was just a stupid necklace from his stupid father and he was stupid for even bringing it with him anywhere. This was just a reminder, and he ought to be more careful, more reserved and polite even. Quieter.

With a few shrill shrieks and a thunderous pattering of feet, Ludwig was alerted to the fact the royal carriage was doubtlessly here, and he nearly sank to the ground in despair. A pity his so called "fairy godparents" had decided then and there to be useful, and never another time. He chuckled half-heartedly. They were indeed idiots, those three, but charming in their own way nonetheless. What would they even do? Change the door into another vegetable? The thought was amusing, and Ludwig toyed with the idea as he tried to ignore the commotion from below.

* * *

><p>Feliciano Vargas, on the other hand, was very much in the highest of spirits; no way his friend was escaping his grasp this time. It was of course, an interesting occasion to decide to head out to town with, but three and a half days of searching later, his heart was fluttering as much as the tiny pouch jingling with the chain of the pendant. The Beilschmidts were next, a family his grandfather had mentioned once or twice; the father had been born a wealthy noble and apparently was fast friends with him, until disaster left his wife and him dead, and the deed left to his well-kempt second wife. It was always such a pity to hear tales such as this, but such was life, and it was in his best interests to be acquitted with the land's nobles anyhow.<p>

The brunet knocked swiftly on the door, thrice in a hop-skipping beat that must have matched the excited tap of his feet. Meeting new people was always refreshing, regardless of whether he accomplished his initial goal or not. Which most certainly, he would, just maybe not here; the boy seemed to have come from a poorer family than this.

There was some shrill screeching from inside, and a sudden pounding of heels on tile as the door slammed open, revealing a slim, brunet figure trepidatiously combing her silky hair. "Ah! Your Highness," the comb was discarded with an extravagant flip of the wrist, "I am Anastasia, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance! Do come this way!"

Feliciano strolled through the main hall at a leisurely pace, admiring the well kept household and portraits lining the walls. It certainly appeared they had substantial wealth yet despite the previous tragedies surrounding the family. Interestingly enough, most of the portraits seemed to be of the newer of the wives and the stepdaughters, few of Mr. Beilschmidt himself or his former family ever surfaced. The dining hall was set with a lush array of ornate flowers and hors d'oeuvres, with the two women already seated at the sides, and Anastasia gestured towards the head, inclining Feliciano to sit down. Feliciano removed the small pouch from his pocket with little fuss, pouring it's contents onto the table below.

"Well," he began, chuckling slightly, "I suppose you know why it is I am here. I must thank you, firstly, for how I was received, I appreciate it greatly. Secondly, I must ask, as my time is limited, whether or not there are any men in the household, to whom this item might belong?"

Feliciano lifted the pendant with his pointer finger, showing it off for the women to see. He was a loathe to rush the conversation, but it seemed this house held very little promise in his search, and the denizens unfriendly. Anastasia seemed to be burning with a fierce passion, but it was the older, gray woman who spoke next.

"I am familiar with that necklace, however I am unaware of any men in this household. I haven't seen fit after his death, you know, but I'm sure my lovely daughters are quite interested, you know."

The brunet's eyebrow piqued, and he sighed, rather exasperated with the conversation already. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Madame, but I assure you this pendant belonged specifically to a man, are you perhaps familiar with someone who has worn this?"

The older woman's lip quivered slightly, yet she continued pressing onwards, "No, no, Your Majesty, I was quite certain that that necklace belongs to my dearest Drizella here," she stated this quite firmly, indicating to the other brunette at her right.

The cold calm in her voice alerted Feliciano he was in for a rather long argument, and he wasted no time in asserting his discontent, "Madame, I am completely this does not belong to you, and while perhaps you own a similar pendant, this one did belong to a man, and he is the one I am searching for."

The woman's face darkened at this, and her daughters each seemed to be discomforted in some way. "I do mean this in the nicest way, sir, but I ca-"

Whatever she was about to say was promptly interrupted by a dull thud from above. The elder was hesitant for a moment, before putting on a sickly sweet smile.

"I do apologize for that sir, we have a rather large cat."

Before Feliciano could reply, the thud sounded again, this time much louder. The woman this time stared back with a curious look, as if uncertain at to what to call it. The noises continued, this time most definitely accompanied by some human-sounding grunt, to which again none of the women dared to try and explain. Assuming the worst, Feliciano saw fit to take to action, hastily gathering up the pendant into his pocket.

"I assume, Madame, you have an intruder," Feliciano stated firmly, "And I can assure we will be ridding you of this _hindrance _to our conversation immediately." With that, he indicated to his guards in the hall to follow him, and he mounted the stairs, leaping upwards two at a time.

The women seemed greatly concerned with this, following him up the stairs with much commotion. Feliciano was leagues ahead of them anyhow, and he reached the split in the staircase in no time. The noise seemed to be coming from up the thin, rickety set of stairs, and Feliciano wasted no time in clambering to the top.

Here he was confronted with the source of the noise: A beaten oak door, locked heavily _from the outside_. This last fact was in itself perplexing, and he wondered momentarily if this was known by the women of the house. His thoughts were scattered when the door shook in its frame violently, a rough panting coming from the other side. Without much hesitation, Feliciano undid the lock and threw back the door, almost simultaneously being bowled over by a very familiar face.

"Oh, it's you!"

The blonde seemed taken aback by his sudden change in position, and stumbled awkwardly off Feliciano, helping him to his feet. "I am so sorry I wasn't aware you were there are you alright?"

Feliciano was certainly grinning by now, "Very much so, and I'm glad to have found you again!"

Feliciano's grin faded slightly as he took in the state the blonde was in. He had anticipated him coming from a lower class family, but of course in finding him here, he was considerably underdressed compared to the family. He seemed altogether unkempt to Feliciano, his hair only gently pushed back into the slick, gelled back style he had had that night, and his clothes looking patched and worn, like he never got new ones. Coupled with the fact he was most certainly locked in the small room, and his nervous behavior the night of the ball, the brunet was nearly certain something was amiss with the family below. The rest of his party had reached them by now, with his guards snapping to attention as the threat was deemed miniscule, if any. Beyond them, the women were scowling and Feliciano could have sworn he heard them mumbling all numbers of curses under their breath. He turned to them next.

"I do beg pardon, Madame, but I believe you have lied to me. Is this how you treat the boy on a regular basis?"

The woman huffed indignantly. "The manner in which I treat my servants is none of your business."

The brunet's eyes narrowed in turn. "Isn't it odd then, that your so-called servant should be a mirror image of Sir Beilschmidt himself?"

The woman hesitated, and it was clear she knew she had lost. "A happy coincidence," she murmured, daring not to meet Feliciano's eye.

"Coincidence or not, I think you will find my terms fair and just. Firstly, I shall be taking the boy with me; secondly, there will be a reexamination of Sir Beilschmidt's will; and finally, any attempt at hindering either of these event's progress shall be considered a personal assault upon the crown. I do not think we have much else to discuss, Madame. Good day to you."

With that, Feliciano grabbed the blonde's hand, indicating to his men they were meant to leave. The three women were left gaping on the rickety steps up to the attic, and none from their party dared to look back. The blonde, tussled as he was, neither smiled nor seemed relieved, rather, he looked quite apprehensive. Feliciano gave his hand a small squeeze, hoping to communicate he wasn't quite as fond of abrasive displays of authority as it had seemed. The blonde hesitated slightly, but returned the gesture, eyes still cast down. The group proceeded in silence to the carriage, where Feliciano dismissed his men with a wave of his hand. Turning to the blonde, he pondered where exactly to start.

"Well, I assume my decisions are to your liking? Or perhaps was I a bit too brash? I don't really like to be abrasive, you know, but I _did_ say you were my friend and I really dislike it when people I like are treated that way. By the way, I never did get your name. I'm assuming the surname is Beilschmidt? You look just like him you know, except maybe the hair is a bit shorter. Well, a lot shorter really, but that's besides the point."

The blonde seemed taken aback, and Feliciano was reminded of his awkward habits. "Well, sir, um, I'm Ludwig," his voice was small, as if he expected Feliciano to bite, "And, uh, no, thank you, it's fine."

Feliciano smiled warmly, "Ludwig, hm? That's cute. Or something. But of course I'm sure you're more interested in where you'll be staying and-oh! How could I forget, I never did give you your pendant back, did I?"

Ludwig nodded a little more eagerly this time, a sort of half-smile creeping upon the corner of his lips. Feliciano withdrew the pendant and carefully unwound the chain, draping it carefully over the shoulders of its owner, and fastening the clasp with the utmost care. Ludwig's face seemed to radiate with a glowing heat, a flush growing upon his cheeks as he whispered, "Thank you, Feliciano," and smiled widely for perhaps the first time.

* * *

><p>Fourteen seasons later, Feliciano Vargas bounced down upon his half of the wide down mattress. "Spring, he says, or at least that's the earliest. I say later spring, early on it's cold and wet and muddy and altogether too gloomy; I'd rather things be...flowery. And green."<p>

Ludwig nodded slightly from the dresser, preoccupied for the moment with sorting his dress wear. "Flowery sounds nice..."

The brunet flopped backward onto the bed, stretching his arms above him leisurely. "He's far too eager to marry me off, I'm surprised he could wait another three years." Feliciano could see the blonde's blush extending over his neck, but he continued on anyways, "You know, it's not like we're even going to be kings or anything, that's on Lovino."

Ludwig unclipped the iron cross pendant from around his neck, setting it upon the nightstand, "You shouldn't worry too much about that, I certainly don't want that kind of responsibility," the blonde slipped under the comforter, nudging Feliciano over with his foot.

Feliciano too, rolled under the bedspread, hugging closely to Ludwig's side.

"Don't do that," the blonde muttered half-heartedly.

"Night. Love you."

Ludwig sighed deeply into his pillow, before rolling over to face the brunet.

"I love you too."


End file.
